


The Dangers of Bored Jocks

by Limen



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Canon, two jocks one brain cell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 16:12:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18553255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limen/pseuds/Limen
Summary: When you date people like Ryuji and Shiho, it's best to have plans to keep them entertained. Otherwise...





	The Dangers of Bored Jocks

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shove this heel down your throat, blondie.” 

Mika’s voice was little more than a low growl as she stood over Ryuji’s prone body, leaning forward so she could see her prey. Their eyes met briefly as he attempted a lighthearted laugh that came out more of a tremulous warbling. He tried to glance at the shoe grinding into his cheek, the stiletto resting gently on his throat. He could still feel his Adam’s apple push against it when he swallowed to clear his throat. _There were no second chances here,_ Ryuji thought to himself, _I got one shot to get this right and walk away._

“Mikaaaaaa, funny to run into you here. I hadn’t seen you workin’ with Ann for a while. You been good?”

Wrong answer.

—

**28 minutes earlier**

—

Shiho held the dressing room door open for Ryuji as he balanced three plates of pastries, nigiri, petit fours, fruit, and cold skewers of chicken on each arm, and holding the rims of two cups of lightly fizzing punch between his teeth as he lurched for the coffee table. Shiho followed behind him and grabbed a plate in each hand, allowing Ryuji to steady himself and get everything down mostly carefully. His eyes were bouncing between each plate as he went through a furious mental debate over potential course orders. Shiho, however, gave him a gentle aside nudge with her hips as she walked past, kept a plate for herself, and spun around before falling backwards gracefully into the loveseat against the wall. She paused for a moment with a chicken skewer balanced on her upper lip as a meatstashe. “I’m never gonna get it, Ryuji, but I cannot complain about the spread these big shoots put out for the staff. So I guess I can’t complain if we get dragged along with Ann on these things.” Ryuji nodded and grunted in agreement as he indiscriminately took single bites of whatever was in reach. Shiho watched in morbid amusement for a few seconds before sighing and flopping backwards into a full recline, watching the de-chickened skewer roll between the cushions to be a warning to all future generations of +1/2s. She sighed, “They’ve been going for three hours now, -before you say it, phrasing-, changed into 8 outfits, and there’s still another hour to go. I mean, we could go home, but that means leaving Ann and Mika unchaperoned.” Shiho grimaced at all the stories of professional cattiness she’d hear the next day, Mika still unable to completely resist needling Ann to keep her rival on pace. 

Ryuji nodded a second time before he swallowed and pointed at her with his own unmeated stick. “It’s not like we don’t know exactly why she flares up, though. Any time Ann brings me to one of these, they totally end up claws out by the end of it.” Not like Panther couldn’t take her if it came to that, he thought. Ryuji looked around the dressing room, glancing over outfits that cost more than a month’s rent on a rack along the wall, modeling magazines strewn on the table and floor, and pictures of various combinations of the three of them were scattered along the makeup shelf with an indifferent air. Despite not being sure how things were gonna end for him finishing up high school, this wasn’t ever the path he expected things to go. He took a moment to think about the events that led up to this moment as a convenient excuse to show rather than tell.

\---

**A year and a half earlier**

\---

“What’s up, Ryuji? You wanted to talk, in person?“ Akira raised an eyebrow at Ryuji as he came up the stairs to Leblanc’s loft. He was sitting at on the floor cross-legged, leaning against the bed frame, while Futaba puffed out her cheeks in annoyance at the interruption, laid out on the bed between two piles of textbooks and notes scattered carelessly like idle thoughts. ( _“Skulllll!!! You’re intruding on my hyperbolic math chamber!” she whined at the interruption._ ) 

Ryuji raised a hand behind his head in embarrassment as his gaze shifted down towards the floor and he gave serious consideration to just turning tail and walking back out the door. “Yeah, uh… I wanted to talk about.” He found his breath catching in the back of his throat, but stomped his foot on the ground to push himself through it. “I wanna ask Ann out on a date, but since you and she were a thing earlier, I just wanted to make sure that, like, you’re cool with that, ya know?” He saw Akira take that familiar blank look on his face, like he had three things he wanted to say about the current topic, but didn’t know which one had priority. His eyes focused back on Ryuji’s face as he motioned for him to sit down on the couch. Futaba had sat up in interest, but was rummaging around blindly with one hand for something that had fallen down between the bed and the wall. Ryuji sat down slowly, sliding his right leg forward. He rubbed his thigh idly, the low ache keeping him focused on the moment.

Ryuji felt transparent as Akira sat straighter with a deep breath, and a sharp exhale as he slumped back forward, his elbows on his knees and resting his chin in his hands. “So, you came here to ask for... my blessing? Ryuji, you know that was while we were still in high school, right? How long do you think we dated?” Akira’s face was more or less still, but the corners of his eyes were crinkling up in a suppressed smile.

Sakamoto’s face blanked as he thought back of it, “6 months, maybe?” Futaba shoved the pillow into her face, trying to hold back the cackling; while the dark-haired student’s face broke into a manic grin as he covered his face with hands. Akira laughed while looking at Ryuji between his fingers, “Oh my god, no! I mean, no, not like that, but no, it didn’t go like that. We had... two dates, tops?” Ryuji stood up in and exclaimed, “You all were still pretty cozy together for a long while, though?”

Akira shook his head, peeking at the blonde between the black locks now disheveled. “The only thing I said we stopped doing was dating.” Ryuji’s eyes opened wide at the realization. Akira continued, while, Futaba had found a Narf gun and was rapidly trying to reload it with the darts she had managed to grasp from under the bed. “Yeah, we still hung out together, but… I dunno. Ann likes to be affectionate, but it doesn’t mean as much to her, emotionally? And with everything else that was going on then, it was good stress relief for the both of us. But what she told me was, basically, ‘I can’t date you because I don’t want to hurt Ryuji.’”

Futaba took the degaussed expression on Ryuji’s face as a good signal for her to close one eye to aim, and let off her first warning shot. ( _"Sine!"_ ) Akira leaned back, shrugged slightly, and told him, “So it’s not my place to tell you you can or can’t anything here, Ryuji.” ( _"Cosine!"_ ) The blonde stood up slowly, eyes to the ceiling for a moment. Akira almost stood up to check on him when Ryuji lunged forward into an hug, pressing the bed frame awkwardly into this back. Akira gave him a reassuring squeeze back.

Meanwhile, Futaba took judgmental aim, and fired the Narf point-blank into the top of Ryuji’s head with a melodramatic scowl, “Tangent, now let me study!” She maintained her frown long enough to hear the tinkling of the cafe door’s bell when she broke her facade and released the pent-up squeal, flailing in excitement.

 

\---

**Eight months after that**

\---

Ryuji Sakamoto idly messed with his phone while on the Yongen-Jaya line. He switched over to the web browser and began to type in “can you twerk with a bad le-

\---

**Wrong day. AFTER THAT**

\---

Ryuji’s right hand drew idly through Ann’s hair, falling in languid curls from her head resting on his lap. Both of them were happy to be with each other tonight, as a reality show played idly on the TV. It was a night to kill time until bedtime. A few minutes into the meat incident, Ann poked Ryuji in the ribs, “Hey, babe? Question, but I think I need to sit up for this.” She pulled herself upright and adjusted so she was facing Ryuji. “Ok, so, first thing. If you’re uncomfortable with any of this, just say so and it’s done, ok? I just need to ask.” 

Ryuji tilted his head like a dog hearing a new command, “I- alright? What’s up?” 

Ann made a dramatic, drawn-out sigh as she leaned forward, bent her arm across Ryuji’s shoulder, and buried her face in the crook of her elbow. Ryuji heard the muffled half-question, “I was wondering how you feel about Shiho.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to make out where this line of thinking was going. “She’s great, right? Your best friend, volleyball junkie, the other person who’s there to finish your food when you fill up on crepes before dinner. Did you two have an argument or something?”

Ann shook her head as her other hand reached forward for Ryuji’s thigh, holding onto him weakly. “No, the opposite. I- I’ve loved her for ages, I thought she was like a sister to me, but… I think I actually feel differently about it now. Or maybe I always felt this way but I couldn’t be honest with myself about it or… I don’t knooooow. Remember that fashion event she and I went to a couple of months ago, you couldn’t go because your mom needed you at home that weekend?” Ryuji grunted to the affirmative and drew a hand around her head, gently scratching the back of her neck to try and assure her. “Well, we ended up in one of the changing rooms with a bottle of champagne. And we made a toast to each other. And then a couple of glasses in, I kissed her. And she kissed me back and it’s not like it wasn’t spontaneous but… it felt right? It was safe, and good, and I was so happy in that moment. But I don’t want this to hurt you so, like… I need to know what you think. I know I may have messed up here, but more than anything, you mean so much to me. You’ve been there for me longer than anyone. I just… if I can have Shiho in my life the same way, that’d be amazing. But you have be ok with that before anything else.” Ann finished with a shuddering sigh, and Ryuji felt the grip on his leg tighten nervously.

He was quiet for a moment, but didn’t stop moving his fingers up and down the sides of Ann’s neck. “I mean… I wish you could’ve told me earlier you felt like that. I’m not gonna tell you you can’t, since it’s your life, right? I’d be no better than any of the other bastards we dealt with if I said you can’t be honest with yourself. Yeah, I felt jealous for a second when you told me, but I’m down to give it a try. If it means I only have to pay for going out for dinner half as much, it’s less work for me, yeah?” Ryuji smiled gently then squawked indignantly as he reflexively had to lean back as Ann put her weight into the boy pushing him onto his side on the couch.

There were tears in the corners of her eyes, and her smile was wavering, but she looked like the weight of the world was off her shoulders. “You can shut up whenever you need to. But thank you, Ryuji. I love you so much.” She crawled on top of his side to cover him in light kisses for a moment before daubing her eyes on his shirt. “There’s one more thing, though. Shiho asked, if you said ok, if you’d be willing to meet her for dinner soon to talk about this?”

\---

**Four months later**

\---

The sake bottle was kicked over carelessly by a pantless leg as Tai Chi Hurry played on, forgotten. Ryuji and Shiho were tangled up in each other’s limbs, their breathing getting heavy as a magazine hit him in the head?

“Heyyyyy. Earth to Ryuji.”

He snapped back to the present when the second magazine thumped against his chest and flopped listlessly over his shoes. Shiho craned her neck up from the loveseat to look at him before laying back down with a melodramatic sigh. “We give up our weekend to come and support Ann and then a producer says we need to go to the back or leave if you’re going to ‘be a distraction to the models’ or ‘that food isn’t for you.’ What a jerk.”

Ryuji shrugged, and swapped out his empty plate for the one loaded with nothing but a pyramid of pork katsu sandwiches. “I mean, there’s two ways we can take that, right?” Ryuji spoke thoughtfully between bites while staring up at the ceiling fan, but not thoughtfully enough to swallow before resuming. “We can get upset, yeah. Orrrr... we can see this as an opportunity to see the true lives of models! Ann’s never let us back in one of these rooms unsupervised, so we can see what she’s been hiding from us!” 

Shiho watched with amusement as a row of blonde spikes kept bobbing up and down in excitement from over the tops of her knees, she knew from experience Ryuji was buying into his own idea now. “Ooh! Maybe Ann has a stash of, like, the pictures that are too risque for the magazines. Or maybe the ones where she accidentally had her photo taken mid-burp.” Shiho raised an eyebrow as she suggested, “Or maybeeee, clothes? Makeup?”

Ryuji started rummaging through a drawer, thinking aloud, “You think they have any of those feather boas in here somewhere? But what if I find some of her lingerie lying around!?” 

Shiho sat up to look at him with incredulity, and remarked, “What, am I supposed to be scandalized by the concept of tits? In case you forgot, Ryuji.” Shiho lifts up the bottom of her threadbare Yasogami Primary School Field Day t-shirt to flash him with a taupe sports bra, and ugly laughed when he immediately spun around and looked in most any other direction, watching the blush creep up from his neck in the mirror. A third magazine flew through the air before fluttering clumsily off of Ryuji’s shoulder. She laughed as he insisted on propriety, “Dork. You’ve seen these too!”

Ryuji stammered out, “It’s different! What if somebody walked in?”

Shiho waved vaguely at the dressing room entrance, and said, “You could...? Lock? The door? It’s not like Ann’s gonna be upset we’re messing around in here.” Ryuji’s reluctance to continue the conversation was enough to make Shiho pull herself back up to look at him directly. His study of the fake wood flooring was enough to indicate his growing embarrassment, so it was time to deflect.

Or at least set the next hour to be a lot more entertaining.

“Well, if you don’t wanna do that, how about a competition? The usual bet, two bowls of ramen and bottle of sake,” she suggested, standing up and laying the leftover tartlets on the coffee table as she walked over to Ryuji, dipping down to pop her head into his field of vision. Ryuji’s eyes flicked back to meet hers, his eyes immediately narrowed with the suspicion born of experience. “Probably. What’s the rules?” “Take turns making the other laugh. A laugh means you get to do something stupid to the other. Repeat until one of us taps out.” Ryuji scoffed slightly as he nodded to the terms, holding out a closed fist. “Alright. Deal. Jan, ken, pon!” Shiho pumped her fist as her paper beat his rock, and Ryuji sat down with a huff on the stool nearby.

Shiho looked around the room before spotting a slinky, low cut dress of glossy blue satin hanging on one of the nearby racks. She quickly peeled off her t-shirt and threw it overhanded onto the couch, and shoved her arms into the sleeves, arms akimbo as she performed an exaggerated vogue routine. Ryuji clapped his hands over his mouth trying to swallow a bark of laughter as Shiho bounced up and down in victory. She walks up to Ryuji and takes his chin between her fingers and moves his head to the left, and then the right, his right eyebrow raised in confusion as she was gauging some unknown value. A second later he was trying to squirm out of Shiho’s grip as she dove for his neck, indignantly squawking while trying to free himself. He squirmed at the sensation of her sucking hard at the sensitive skin of his neck, and finally managed to push her off because she couldn’t stop laughing. As she steps back, Ryuji looked over at the nearest mirror, his lips pulled into a tight line at the sight of a blooming red mark. “That was dirty, Shiho!”

Shiho’s cackling calmed down as she laughed at her boyfriend’s plight. She struck another pose, dress half wrapped around her waist and coolly remarked, “I mean, if you want this to be a one round knockout, we can stop.”

Ryuji just about barked when he spun around, the fires of competition fully stoked, as he refused vehemently. “Nope, no. Not happenin’. You sit down, my turn.” Shiho leaned back into the stool with a smirk, crossing her right leg over her left with a deliberately smug air. He stuck his tongue out at her and had just spun around to look around at the makeup brushes and tools scattered around when he caught motion in the corner of his vision. His head swung up and saw the reflection of Shiho shaking with a silent laugh. His whole body swung around as he pointed accusingly with an eyebrow curler and a cuticle knife.

“Hey! I see that,” he crowed, looking around the room for his retaliatory strike. He looked around and spotted a tube of… primer? Face oil? Mascara concentrate? Blush wax? We’ll find out, he thought as he popped off the cap and spun the bottom of it for a few turns to find a couple of centimeters of some glossy, blood red lipstick peek out. He turns around with a fanged grin as Shiho’s eyes widen in horror. He leans in and jabs the lip paste forward like a knife, daubing it into a rough circle on her left cheek before doing the same on her right, her hands instinctively flying to her face before pulling back with a thick smudge of lipstick on the tips of her fingers. She grabbed a couple of tissues from a dispenser on the table and tried to wipe it off, but gave up after they just smeared the excess lipstick further back on her face and added small feathers of shredded tissue paper to the marks. In the meantime, Ryuji grabbed the lipstick’s cap and slid it back onto the tube, pushing down harder when the cap hit the tip of the lipstick before it smushed back into place with a soft click.

Shiho straightened her shoulders as she took an expression of grim determination and looked back at the clothing rack for ammunition. She slung the dress currently draped like an apron on her chest around her neck like a scarf, and pulled out a gauzy yellow silk scarf, and grabbed a length of each end in her hands before holding them up to either side of her head in faux pigtails. Then, in her worst valley girl, Shiho begged, “Ryuuuujiiiii. I want crepes. Will you stand in line for half an hour for me and maybe I’ll give you the last bite that’s nothing but whipped cream? Pweaaaaaaaase?” His fingertips blanched as he grabbed tight onto the edge of the stool, but this time he managed to cough out a polite refusal to Shihoann, despite the increasing pitch and playfulness of her voice. She conceded a few moments later, allowing Ryuji a self-satisfied grin as she basked in that idiot’s smile. She shucked the scarf and dress next to her onto the couch as she settled in for the next attack, letting her eyes drift down to watch his ass as he turned around looking for ideas.

Ryuji faces back to Shiho with a twirl, flashing peace signs with both of his hands and wobbily trying his best to be kawaii af, balanced on his right foot. With his widest, fakest grin, Ryuji started in a vibrating falsetto, “Hey, glitterati! This is my make-up tutorial video on how to be the best blonde you can be. Today we’re gonna be talkin’ about… I don’t know? Blush shit? How you can wing your eyebrows without touching your make-up? I really should have thought this throu-SHIT.” Ryuji threw his arms out as his right knee finally buckled from the strain, and he tipped over backwards towards the makeup counter. Shiho was immediately on her feet and over to him in an instant, taking him by the left wrist to slow his fall. She put out her left foot and planted it with a loud crash against the lip of the counter, knowing he’d pull her down with him if she didn’t brace. Ryuji’s head narrowly missed hitting the counter, but Shiho pulling his weight to the right took him by surprise, his free hand flailing for something to grab, scattering photos and makeup onto the floor. He steadied himself with Shiho’s help and got back to his feet, as they surveyed the carnage. Broken glass and various lotions, oils, and crumbs of powder were strewn across the floor, and Ryuji half-heartedly swept a foot over one of the larger chunks of make-up to grind it into the rug, as if that would conceal the rest of the wreckage. The room was rapidly filling with several scents from broken perfume bottles, melding into a cacophony of scents. Ryuji felt like he got headbutted by Haru’s greenhouse. Shiho was standing stock still, her eyes darting between the counter, the couch, and one of the magazines she had thrown earlier. “Hey, Ryuji? I think we fucked up.”

Her face was growing paler by the second.

“I mean… it’s makeup, right? Can’t be that bad. Gotta be what, 5000 yen at a department store?” Ryuji reached into his pocket and was trying to shimmy his phone out to look up the brands. 

Shiho’s stare extended another 150 yards as she imagined the imminent future. “No, it’s worse.” 

Ryuji tried to swipe into his phone but had to stop when he drew a greasy smear of jujuba oil diagonally across the screen. “6000 yen?”

Shiho walked over and picked up the magazine, her eyes slowly moving between the cover and the dress. “Oh my god we’re going to headline as ‘local model commits double homicide’ and you’re thinking about money.”

Ryuji wiped the phone on the front of his shirt and walked over to Shiho, extremely confused at this point. “OK, I don’t think I understand what we’re talking about right now.” On the cover of last month’s magazine was Mika, in a blue satin dress. One that Ryuji would swear is the exact copy of the one… on the couch, that Shiho had put on earlier.

The lightbulb finally went off.

“Holy freakin’ crap, WHAT!?” Ryuji yanked open the door and looked at the nameplate on it, willing it with every fiber of his being and promising the rest of his life to the pursuit of inner peace, physical rehab for kittens, and vegetarian meals if the world would deign to have “Takamaki” on it. It didn’t. He shut the door just as quickly as if trying to prevent the reality of the situation from joining the two of them in the dressing room, the dread in the air rapidly becoming as thick as the scent of Le Labo. Death was coming on rose and sandalwood-scented wings.

*ta-tap, ta-tap, ta-tap* 

He was just about to suggest they run away and live on Mount Fuji for the rest of their lives when they heard someone shouting down the hall for steamed towels and swearing that if Takamaki’s meat-for-brains partners were making a ruckus near her dressing ro- yes, she knows that brains are made of meat, that’s not the point of tha- Ann, I need a glass of water, an Excedrin, and to have the lights off for five minutes before I’m ready for the last session, you can eat five donuts or whatever you do between sets. Shiho and Ryuji looked at each other with growing panic, trying to find a way to have the next 30 seconds not end in disaster. Ryuji pushed Shiho to the dress rack and threw the lightswitch, trying to grope for a hiding spot in the dim glow of the nightlight when he heard the handle rattle. He froze as evolutionary instinct howled at him to stay still or perish.

A click, and a sharp intake of breath. Ryuji counted himself lucky he wasn’t set on fire then and there. Mika half-screamed under her breath, “What in the f-,” surveying the carnage in a series of half-steps and increasingly affronted gasps. Her eyes were sweeping the room and about to see the pair of legs with the wrapped knee peeking out from behind the rack when she caught movement in the mirror.

Mika whirled around to see Ryuji trying, against all odds, to sneak out the door behind her. Their eyes met, and Ryuji swore he could see fire blazing behind her brown eyes. He stood up slowly, sidling closer to the wall with each breath. Ryuji’s words came out like a balloon being deflated in intervals, “You know. I think. Wrong room? Sorry. Want a crepe?” He was already turning on his heels and sprinting down the hallway when the shock wore off and the shriek echoed behind him.

Ryuji rounded the first corner back towards the main area when he nearly plowed into Ann, chewing on a raspberry danish while one eyebrow was raised in confusion at the commotion. He threw his arms out and grabbed Ann by the shoulders, pushing her against the wall while trying not to break stride. Ann hadn’t even had a chance to say his name before she heard the rapidfire clicks coming down the hall, and saw Mika in pursuit, arms pumping and her shoes making staccato taps like gunfire on the tile. She quickly swallowed the half-bite of pastry before shouting down the hall at her boyfriend, “Careful, Ryuji! St-”

Airs.

He was mid-stride and there was a railing and stairs around that corner. There were people on those stairs. The stairs that were four paces away. Three paces now, and it didn’t sound like Mika had slowed down. How the hell was she running full tilt in heels? Two paces. That guy looked really important. So did the camera he was holding. That definitely cost more than the makeup, right? One pace. Ryuji couldn’t remember. Was it only four steps up? He could jump that, right?

“Shit, excuse me, sorry!” Hopefully they didn’t have enough time to see his face as he vaulted the railing instead of bowling over the people who Ann would desperately appreciate remaining uninvolved in this. Four steps high. No worries, he totally did worse as a Pha- Ryuji almost swore as a bolt of pain shot up his right leg and into his eyes, the world disappearing momentarily in a flash of false light and stars. He persevered until he made it around the corner then stopped with a bit back scream. He pounded his thigh, trying to get it to stop tingling, when he heard Mika quickly making her own apologies as she her way down the stairs. Ryuji swallowed another lungful of air, and was two paces in before he heard the pop in his leg as something gave out, and then the floor was rapidly getting closer, but so was Mi-.

\---

A week later

\---

All things considered, it could have gone worse, Ryuji thought grimly beneath the groceries, clothes, and miscellaneous packages Mika had chosen to be delivered to the nearby konbini instead directly of to her apartment. Mika hadn’t chosen to press charges, she explained it was all sponsored materials, so she’d be able to get it replaced easily enough. That hadn’t excused, however (Ryuji shuddered remembered the knife edge in her words then,) that he had trashed her room. So he could either pay the cleaning fee that was coming out of her check, or she’d let him off the hook with a little… “light” manual labor. The entire definition of that phrase was up for serious debate as the requirements had gone from helping tidy her apartment, (Be a dear and move that couch for me so I can clean under it,) to carrying her shopping, (You can handle one more bag, yes? I forgot to get some fish for dinner tonight,) to cooking? When he asked about that, she flicked his lips with one finger and replied curtly, “No questions.” She silently motioned for him into the glass-paned elevator, and keyed them up to her apartment. Her expression was neutral as they were waiting, but Ryuji noticed that her crossed arms were bouncing in… impatience? Anticipation?

“Come along, blondie.” Mika waited for the doors to open just enough to allow her clearance before she stepped meaningfully down the hall and to the left, Ryuji struggling to balance the bags and keep up, but the clicking of her shoes on the floor let him know he was still heading in the right direction. She stopped for a moment to steady him when they were in front of her door, and after unlocking the door she gently guided him inside with a hand on his waist, Mika waved generally to the right as he stepped in. Ryuji saw peeks of a refrigerator and kitchen sundries over the bags. She helped him unload the bags of food on the kitchen, and then took the bags of clothes into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. From inside, he heard the muffled request for some mackerel and steamed veggies. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a slightly insolent tone, before getting into the grocery bags for the ingredients.

A little bit after the mackerel went under the broiler, he heard a door open, and looked over his shoulder to see that Mika had changed into a new dress. Specifically, a blue satin one. He hadn’t noticed with how Shiho wore it, but the neckline was plunging, and Mika filled it out more… fully than Shiho, too. She smirked when she saw him starting to redden. “Relax, Sakamoto. Or don’t. Your call.” Her casual response further baffled Ryuji when she walked past him, and pulled out two cans of sake from her refrigerator. She popped open one and took a deep pull from it, and then opened the other and set it on the counter next to Ryuji. “You’re thirsty, right?” she asked with a sincerity that further sent Ryuji into a stammering pile of confusion. He took the drink like it was going to explode, but with her eyes on him, unblinking, he gratefully took a swig from it, and was happily surprised it was some sweet, strawberry-flavored sake. Mika sat herself at the kitchen island, looking at him with an appraising eye. “You and Ann are two peas in a pod, you know that, right? The sweeter the better when it comes to your drinks,” she quipped. Mika paused for a moment with a melancholy look, before throwing back the rest of her sake, then getting back up to get another one from the fridge.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, my nutritionist would kill me. But it’s been a shitty week, so… fuck, cheers,” Mika said offhandedly as she sat back down at the island. She spun the sake can on the counter along its rim with her finger, now talking more at Ryuji rather than to him. “Ok, so. Ryuji. I don’t know how much you know about how Ann and I go, but… I wish it wasn’t like that. She’s infuriating, she’s clumsy, she just falls into success, but I think I still like her as a person. Somehow.” The can hissed slightly as she cracked open the lid, air rushing in to displace the gases inside. “Everything about her makes me jealous but she wants to be a ray of sunshine 24/7 and it is so goddamn hard to stay a good, strong angry at that. And now she’s bringing you and…” Mika’s voice trailed off as she looked Ryuji, prompting him to say, “Shiho?” She nodded a little when she heard the name, “Yeah, her. Hey, fun fact? Did you know you’re the first person who’s not a coworker to be in my apartment? I know I’m intense. You have to be to succeed. You’d think people would get that. But instead you get people calling you an ice queen, or worse.” She took a pull from the can and exhaled sharply, Ryuji taking the moment to spin around and check on the vegetables in the steamer. He dumped them into a bowl and turned around to see Mika now sitting on the counter, legs crossed. She leaned forward, causing Ryuji to avert his eyes before she hopped back onto the floor, and took his chin in her hand. She pulled him down slightly, before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, and whispering in his ear, “I have to admit, though. I do have one problem. I get way too much of a thrill playing with other people’s toys. Now take off your shirt. I want to leave Ann something to find tomorrow.”


End file.
